The Right Color At Last

This is the "before" wall color that we have been dealing with in our living room for several years. I had wanted a warm orange but this shade was just not right. It screamed at me every time I entered the room. It was not quite the tame color you see in this photo. 

But the room had been really hard for me to paint five years ago and involved a lot of ladder work and tiny brushes taped to long handles to reach over the belly of the kiva fireplace. Time and arthritis have marched along since then and I wasn't sure I was up to all that climbing up and down. But that formerly lovely-sounding Tangerine color kept on shrieking at me, day after day. 

What you are seeing here:
A kiva (an adobe fireplace), surrounded by bancos (built in benches, also made from adobe),
with a little nicho (niche) for displaying santos (carvings of saints) or other artwork.

Then I watched The Durrells in Corfu on PBS Masterpiece Theater. I had to keep pausing the show to take photos of the screen. The colors of the water! The colors of the upstairs bedrooms! When I began to dream in teal I knew it was time to get out my old nemesis, the ladder.

This is the book [with a slightly different title] about the TV series.
 The cover shows the very colors that were enchanting me

It's the hottest time of the year here in the desert. I figured that I could put on an ankle brace and some scanty painting clothes (never to be seen by anyone else) and manage two or three hours early each morning before I tired out and/or it got too hot. And that is what I did. 

I am in love with the results. The velvety deep color seemingly changes from hour to hour as the light hits it differently. It's hard to explain the feeling of comfort I get from stepping into this room. It is cooling on a hot day and I feel like I'm floating in the Aegean Sea.

A little Oaxacan creature roots around in the nicho

Another Oaxacan carving stands in a newly-refurbished little cabinet.

I think this little bird is looking at the other side of the room, which is still that Tangerine color. Have patience, little bird. 

By the way, I am watching The Durrells in Corfu for a second time now because it makes me so happy. It is loosely based on Gerald Durrell's delightful Corfu Trilogy, which I read many years ago.  From the PBS website for the show:

"Keeley Hawes (Upstairs Downstairs) stars as an intrepid widow who decamps from dreary England to a sun-dappled Greek island with her four recalcitrant children, ages 11 to 21, on this adaptation of Gerald Durrell’s My Family and Other Animals and its two sequels.

Alongside Hawes’ matriarch Louisa Durrell are eldest son, Larry (Josh O’Connor), a budding writer on his way to becoming the famous novelist Lawrence Durrell; son number two, Leslie (Callum Woodhouse), an impulsive firearms enthusiast; daughter Margo (Daisy Waterstone), sixteen and man-crazy; and eleven-year-old Gerry (Milo Parker), who only has eyes for wildlife and grew up to be a world-renowned naturalist."

The Rest of the Sweaters for Syrian Babies

These are the latest three sweater/hat combinations that I have finished for my knitting group's Syrian refugee project. Please take a look at all the sweaters made by the group here: http://sitknitshare.blogspot.com/2018/04/our-group-works-together-to-make.html

Sweaters for Syrian Refugee Babies

It's harder every day to watch the news about Syria  from my safe and warm living room, so I jumped at a chance to do some little thing to help.

A friend in my knitting group has offered to deliver baby sweaters and hats to the Salaam Cultural Museum in Seattle for shipping to a Syrian refugee camp in Jordan. The folks at the museum will add the baby garments to boxes made up for new mothers. The boxes also include blankets, diapers, and other baby necessities; then the boxes themselves serve as baby beds. 

Here are the sweaters and hats I have made so far. If you want to help out, just Google "knitting for Syrian refugees." I've listed a few general links at the bottom of the page, but you might want to find some place in your own area that is collecting for the refugees. 

I've also listed some free patterns below, and would like to thank those who made them available online. This helps to keep the cost down for volunteer knitters. Another note: Most of these sweaters were made of leftover yarn from other projects. The first one in the photos below owes a lot to the "sunrise" yarn in my vest, Rabbits at Dawn with Snow Falling. 

Check out these links for more information.

Knitting for Syrian refugees:

https://refugeeknit.wordpress.com/

https://www.ravelry.com/groups/warm-hands-for-syrian-refugees

https://www.interweave.com/article/crochet/yarn-giving-knitting-refugees/

Free baby sweater knitting patterns:

Another 5 Hour Baby Sweater from Make Your Own Zone: https://www.themakeyourownzone.com/2016/10/another-5-hour-baby-sweater-knit-pattern.html

Last two photos above

Flax Light Pullover from Tin Can Knits: http://www.tincanknits.com/pattern-SC-flaxlight.html

See photos 1, 2, and 4 above

Top Down Baby Raglan Sweater by Carole Barenys on AllFreeKnitting: https://www.allfreeknitting.com/Baby-Sweater/Top-Down-Raglan-Baby-Sweater

I haven't tried this one yet

A Simple Baby Pullover by Erica Kempf Broughton: https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/a-simple-baby-pullover

Photo 3 above

Rabbit Vest

Rabbits at Dawn With Snow Falling

When you have a cat like Henry, all knitting projects are a challenge. When he was little, he wanted to climb into my knitting bag and play with partly knit sweaters, yarn, and needles. Now that he is more grown up, he wants attention and affection when I want to be knitting. He's so big now, he makes a lot of lap-cat to be knitting around.

And that is how the needles came to be pulled out of the row when I was knitting the rabbit faces on this vest. I waited until the next morning when I was calm and patiently reconstructed the rows, stitch by stitch, carefully getting the right colors in the right places (I thought). At the time, I was quite proud of the results. (Cue the foreboding music here). 

Ha! We all know that pride goes before a fall. It was many, many rows later when I realized that something wasn't quite right with some of the rabbits. There are two rabbit poses on this sweater, and only two. Well, according to the pattern that's what should have happened. However, in a world overflowing with Henry love, things just turned out differently. 

My rabbits all have individual faces and expressions. And names. Of course they have names. That one on the far left is called Mumpy because, well, what else would you call a bunny with such oversized cheeks?

He's Henry the Plumbing Cat

Henry "the kitten" is almost 9 months old. He keeps growing and growing, as you can see in this photo, taken when he was stretched out on the end of the sofa and as close to the fireplace as he could get. 

He's a long boy now

You might remember that Henry was quite a wild boy when we first brought him home from the "kitty condo" where he lived for the first part of his life. See Hello, Henry for a look at his size on arrival here, and Catastrophe Averted, for his adventures in knitting. 

My theory is that, having spent several months in a large cage before we adopted him, he just couldn't get enough of running and jumping and exploring every bit of our house. He has settled down somewhat since his fateful appointment with the vet, but he still likes to gallop from one end of the house to the other.

For some reason, perhaps because his new living space is so much larger than the old one, he has no desire to go outside. He will trot along with the dogs when they are headed out the door, but he stops there and sits inside looking through the window, calling to them until they return. 

He is the cat-who-runs-with-the-dogs, though. He hides and jumps out and chases them, then they chase him. There's usually some kind of entertaining ruckus going on here. 

And have I mentioned plumbing? Since giving up knitting, Henry has taken to dismantling parts of the bathrooms. He stole the hinge off the lid of the new toilet, takes out parts of the whirlpool tub jets and carries them around, and removes the sink strainers and plays hockey with them. Last night I saw a Sailor Cat out of the corner of my eye--Henry was strolling by with what looked like a pipe sticking jauntily out of his mouth. It turned out to be a Bic shaver. I wish that I had gotten a photo!

Henry thinks about a plumbing apprenticeship while lounging by the fire

Rabbits at Dawn With Snow Falling

A winter themed sweater is the perfect project for these chilly days. I found this motif on Pinterest and I see it comes from Shutterstock. I'm afraid I can't tell you more than that, except that it was called "Wayuu Mochila pattern."

I added part of this motif, also from unknown origins via Pinterest. 

Here is how it looked partway through. The sweater is off the needles now and in the finishing stage. When everything is done, I will share a photo here. 

In other news from the Zees, the former kitten Henry is getting huge. At 8 months, he weighs almost ten pounds now. His behavior is quite different from the way it was when he first arrived. I'll tell you more about him in the next post. 

A Simple Formula For Living

This makes the rounds of Facebook every once in awhile. To me, it's worth keeping where I can easily find it.

Orchard Before Harvest

As I'm kicking through the falling leaves

Loving the clear blue skies over this pecan orchard

And watching little dog Petey run ten miles for every mile I walk

Booming machinery works the next orchard over

 Autumn skies there patched by clouds of dust

My heart lifts a bit at this morning scene

And I feel hope, hope, hope

The frost has come

The trees stand ready

The nuts may not know what's coming

*****

P.S. I hope you used your secret decoder rings!

Three Rivers Petroglyphs

Here in southern New Mexico, we're never far from scenes like this one at Three Rivers. The photos can't really convey the immense stillness and silence and isolation. No one is nearby. No one.

Long ago there was a village here, inhabited by the Jornada Mogollon people between 900 and 1400 AD.

Take the trail up the hill and look at their art work, painstakingly picked onto the rocks using stone tools. More than 21,000 glyphs have been found here, showing "birds, humans, animals, fish, insects and plants, as well as numerous geometric and abstract designs are scattered over 50 acres of New Mexico's northern Chihuahuan Desert." (New Mexico True: The Three Rivers Petroglyph Site).

A petroglyph—derived from the words “petro,” or “rock,” and “glyph,” to “carve,” or “carving”—is essentially just that, a rock carving. (Whispers of the Past Engraved in New Mexico Petroglyphs).

Looking back down the hill you can see the site of the village where the ancient rock artists lived. You can almost imagine the busy sounds of their neighborhood breaking through the vast silences we experience today.

CATastrophe Averted

Deep into family history research last night, I was only dimly aware of thumping sounds from the other room. When I finally surfaced from the 18th century, I found Henry the kitten tearing around the living room wrapped in yarn and dragging my almost fully knit sweater behind him. It was an exciting and stimulating discovery for me, and quite an embarrassment for Henry.

All is well once again. Henry was extricated from behind the sofa and the yarn unwound from his back foot. The sweater was fished out from behind the TV, somewhat dusty but miraculously still on the needles. My skein of yarn will never look the same. The knitting bag was locked in the closet for the night and tired little Henry went to sleep with a dreamy little smile on his face.

No photos were taken during all the excitement, but here is the untangling process well underway this morning. 

A colorful project unharmed and just a few more inches to go.
Note: Also makes a good dust cloth. 

Hello, Henry!

This is how we feed them here at the Zee house. Please welcome young Henry (aka Hank, aka Handkerchief), shown here eating on the lower deck. He is an older kitten rescue from the local shelter. 

From the ASPCA Pet Statistics page: Each year, approximately 1.5 million shelter animals are euthanized (670,000 dogs and 860,000 cats). The number of dogs and cats euthanized in U.S. shelters annually has declined from approximately 2.6 million in 2011. This decline can be partially explained by an increase in the percentage of animals adopted and an increase in the number of stray animals successfully returned to their owners.

Our local shelter has worked hard to lower the rate of euthanization and to place their homeless animals into caring homes. They bring dogs available for adoption to many community events, and they have satellite operations around town where cats can be seen up close. It's much more relaxing to look at just a few cats in cages at a pet food store or, in our case, the "Kitty Condo" at our county building, than to go to the shelter. Visiting the shelter is an overwhelmingly emotional experience for me--so many animals, such great need!

Bill became acquainted with Henry because he (Bill, not Henry) attends a lot of meetings at the County Building and stopped by the Kitty Condo each time to visit a little kitten called Jupiter (now Henry). Once they were bonded, there was little I could do. Now we are a much livelier household!

Plus, we get to live another 18-22 years, the possible life expectancy for a cat. I'm absolutely sure it works that way.

Taking on a Complex Project: Inspiration and Interpretation

I found this photo of the Nepalese Haley Jacket on Ravelry. If you've never heard of it, Ravelry tells us it "is a place for knitters, crocheters, designers, spinners, weavers and dyers to keep track of their yarn, tools, project and pattern information, and look to others for ideas and inspiration."  

I am fascinated by this garment and have spent a lot of time staring at the photo. The colors! The designs! The techniques! 

The person who created it, whose Ravelry username is "Rishi," didn't include a pattern but did mention elsewhere that she loves a jacket called Kestrels Alight Kimono, designed by Sarah Swett, and published in the book Knitting in America by Melanie Falick.

Our library didn't have the book, but I was lucky enough to find a used copy online for only five dollars. It's a beautiful book, originally sold for $35, but now somewhat out of date. Of course, "out of date" is very subjective, and most of the things in the book appeal to me. Most importantly, I now have some directions for shaping the garment. 

The technique for knitting this jacket is one I've always wanted to try. This is Fair Isle knitting that has two or more colors per row with strands carried across the back, and it is most efficiently done in the round, rather than as flat shaped pieces that are sewn together . That much I've done before, but here is the technique that is new to me: The sweater is made as a tube and then the front is cut open, as are the armholes. These cuts are called steeks. For my knitting friends, there is an excellent online tutorial by Kay Davies on steeking. See the first part here: https://katedaviesdesigns.com/2012/04/29/steeks-1-introduction/

Phew! Scary stuff, to take a pair of scissors to knitting you have worked on for such a long time! They tell me it works, and I'm going to find out. 

And from what I can tell by enlarging the photo, I think that the front band was knit separately as another tube, short and wide, then cut apart and connected to the jacket body. Another fun steek! Later note: I've found that this band is knitted by picking up stitches from the front, then knit as a tube, etc., instead of being knit separately then attached.

I've enjoyed looking through my knitting books for Fair Isle designs to use. The next section of my sweater will have a flower design that I found online. My printer is disappointing me these days, so I will be spending some time transferring and color coding the blurry online photo to graph paper this afternoon.

This is where interpretation of the original inspiration garment comes in. Nothing about my project will look like Rishi's beautiful jacket: My stitches will be much bigger, my colors and designs different, and the finished product will probably be a light sleeveless cardigan vest instead of a warm jacket with sleeves.

I've got about six inches knit so far. To get to this point, I needed to knit several swatches so I could determine my gauge and find out how many stitches to put on what size needles. Rishi knitted a dense fabric with tiny No. 2 knitting needles for her jacket; I wanted an airier, thinner fabric (winter in the desert is cold, but not that cold), so I am using much larger No. 8 needles. 

After figuring out the gauge I began the actual garment, found an error, tore it out. Began again, tore it out again. And again. I'm on my fourth try now and all is going well. Even though it has taken a couple of weeks, I've learned a lot along the way!

The jacket at the top of the page took Rishi "about a year to complete." This project is going to be all about the journey, not the destination. 

Doesn't look much like the inspiration jacket, does it? Funny how that happens.

Still There

Giant storms and earthquakes and volcanoes spewing ash. Schoolyard bully-style name calling, missiles flying and jets swooping, hydrogen bomb threats... it's a wonder we can sleep at all.

When I woke today from a restless night, the world was still there, so I took a walk in it.

It was pretty cloudy when I started out, but the sunlight slid right through the mist covering the mountains.

My phone camera did its best to capture the emerging light.

Beany, dirty face and all, kept a careful eye on me, 

while Weetzie watched the great blue heron that accompanied us, up ahead and just out of camera range. 

Farm workers have picked truckload after truckload of green chiles from these fields. Now they wait for the last ones to turn red for the red chile harvest.

I know the farmers rightly dislike the field bindweed, but its flowers are beautiful among the red chiles. I saw some tomatillos growing in among the plants, too. 

I need to stop watching the news and take my cues from nature. 

Here is Arthur Symons' poem, In the Wood of Finvara, first published in 1896. Although my heron is no fairy bird, and Symons speaks of "sea and sea" and fairy woods and not of the desert and its irrigated valleys, he knows my heart.

I have grown tired of sorrow and human tears;

Life is a dream in the night, a fear among fears,

A naked runner lost in a storm of spears.

I have grown tired of rapture and love's desire;

Love is a flaming heart, and its flames aspire

         

Till they cloud the soul in the smoke of a windy fire.

  

I would wash the dust of the world in a soft green flood;

Here between sea and sea, in the fairy wood,

I have found a delicate, wave-green solitude.

  

Here, in the fairy wood, between sea and sea,

  

I have heard the song of a fairy bird in a tree,

And the peace that is not in the world has flown to me.

Love Story (Again)

I wrote this back in 2013. I think that it's appropriate to repost it today on our 36th anniversary. 

Way back when Beez and I first got married in 1981, we bought our first new furniture. My favorite piece was a small-scale wing chair with red Colonial plaid upholstery. It was the perfect size for me because I am short and the chair allowed my feet to reach the floor.

I sat in my comfy chair to read and to think. When we moved from Washington state to New Hampshire, the little chair came along and fit right into our 1770 Colonial home (see The House on High Street for more about that historic house).

Through the years, sitting in my little wing chair, I read about raising children, adoption issues, and going back to college as an adult. I studied for my classes in that chair; classes that helped me earn first a Bachelor's degree and then a Master's. I learned to knit there and made a lot of sweaters.

As I grew older, I also learned to take a quick nap while sitting bolt upright in that chair. Of course as I aged, so did the chair. An overenthusiastic puppy chewed the chair's legs and ate the upholstery right off one of the arms, so I learned to make slipcovers. Then I learned that slipcovers made out of thin fabric don't last. When the first yellow gingham slipcover got worn out too quickly, I made another slipcover out of a sturdy flowered fabric that I didn't like much. From that I learned that stuff you don't like just never gets any more attractive.

The third slipcover was made of plain and sturdy white canvas that I really liked. It lasted a very long time and went with everything, even this red room I painted in New Hampshire.

Red living room with dog basket and white wing chair

We moved to New Mexico and retired. By and by the white slipcover wore out, too, and the poor little chair looked so shabby. I threw a quilt over it but eventually decided, not too long ago, that it was time to say goodbye to my loyal and comfy companion. I asked Beez to please take it to the dump, right away before I changed my mind. He loaded it up and drove away.  

It was like deciding to put down a beloved old dog. I had really thought that it was the right time and just didn't have it in me to make another set of slipcovers, but I was haunted by the thought of my good little chair down in the pit at the dump, lying there at the mercy of the big bulldozer. 

That was almost a month ago. Today I came home from a morning at my knitting group and walked into my special little reading room. There, standing once again in its usual corner, was my beloved little chair--all reupholstered in fine new fabric, with its formerly scratched-up wooden legs refinished and gleaming.

And there was dear smiling Beez, who (after 30-some years) knows me better than I know myself.